Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Dimitri

Well, isn't this just the cherry on top of our dysfunction sundae? Forced marriage. How quaint. And here I thought shotgun weddings went out of style with bell-bottoms.

I paced our bedroom, bourbon in hand, trying to wrap my head around Angelo's latest power play. Marry Gianna or else. As if I needed more reasons to loathe my future brother-in-law.

My eyes flicked to Gianna. God, she was beautiful, even with worry etched across her face. Any other day, I'd jump at the chance to call her mine forever. But this? This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Gianna's voice broke through my internal rant, soft and tinged with sadness. "Dimitri, I… I'm so sorry. This isn't fair to you. I never wanted it to be like this. "

I turned to look at her, caught off guard by the guilt in her eyes. Damn it. Here I was, cracking jokes while she was tearing herself up inside.

"Hey," I said, my voice gentler than I'd intended. "This isn't your fault, princess. Your brother's the one playing DIY wedding planner from hell, not you."

She shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. "But it is my fault. If it weren't for me, for my family, you wouldn't be in this mess. You'd be free to?—"

"To what?" I interrupted, moving closer to her. "Wander the earth alone? Spend eternity sampling every type of bourbon known to man? Sounds thrilling."

Gianna looked up at me, her eyes a mix of love and sorrow that hit me harder than any stake ever could. "You know what I mean, Dimitri. You deserve better than being forced into this."

I cupped her face in my hands, all pretense of sarcasm gone for a moment. "Listen to me, Gianna. You're not forcing me into anything. Your psychotic brother is trying to, sure, but last I checked, I'm still capable of making my own terrible life choices."

A small smile tugged at her lips, and I felt a flutter of victory.

"Besides," I continued, my signature smirk returning, "if being ‘forced' to spend eternity with the girl I love is the worst thing that happens to me, I'd say I'm doing pretty well for a vampire with a penchant for trouble."

As I looked at Gianna, torn between love and guilt, one thing was clear – whatever we did, we'd do it together. Even if it meant saying "I do" with her brother's metaphorical gun to our heads.

For the next two weeks, my new "boss" had me playing chauffeur all over New Orleans, treating me like a well-trained puppy expected to sit and stay in the car. The wedding was set for the end of the week because, apparently, Angelo believed in shotgun weddings minus the actual shotgun. How thoughtful of him.

I had called Valentin, and let's just say he wasn't exactly popping champagne over the news of me marrying the vampire mafia princess. Shock of the century, right? The disappointment in his voice was about as subtle as a stake to the heart. But hey, disappointing people is practically my superpower at this point. If they gave out Olympic medals for it, I'd be drowning in gold.

Nevertheless, he and Rose, along with Augustus and Louise, were even flying in for the nuptials. Because nothing says 'congratulations on your forced marriage' like a big, happy vampire family reunion. Joy.

But as I had hung up, a nagging thought wormed its way into my brain. Valentin's disappointment... was it really his? Or was Petar pulling strings from the shadows? For all I knew, the high priestess could be playing puppet master with those damn Malefic Puppets.

Great. As if I didn't have enough to worry about. Now I get to play 'Spot the Magical Manipulation' with my own brother. Just another fun party game for our family get-together. I could already feel the love... and the potential mind control... in the air .

I was leaning against the limousine, the hot New Orleans sun beating down on me, making me wish for a cool drink and a shadier spot. My fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the car's sleek surface as I waited for Angelo. That's when I spotted Petar approaching, his face twisted into that all too familiar you're-in-deep-shit scowl. Ah, nostalgia.

"You haven't even tried stealing the Moirai Mirror," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

I met his gaze, injecting as much boredom into my voice as possible. "I've been a little busy playing Driving Miss Daisy with my new boss. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly employee of the month material."

Petar's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Your timeline has just moved up. You need to steal it tonight."

I cocked an eyebrow, channeling every ounce of nonchalance I could muster. "Why?" I drawled, stretching the word out like taffy.

He pounded my chest with each word, his finger jabbing into me like a dull knife. "That's. Not. Your. Concern."

In a flash, I grabbed his finger and spun him around, my patience snapping like a dry twig. "Don't. Touch. Me. Ever," I hissed, my voice dripping with venom.

"Okay, loverboy," Petar spat, his words laced with contempt. "You just cooked your goose. If you don't steal it tonight, I'm going to use the Malefic Puppet on either your measly brother or the slut."

White-hot anger surged through me, my vision blurring red at the edges. I twisted his arm harder, feeling the tendons strain under my grip. "Fuck you, asshole," I growled, my voice low and dangerous.

"Pick. The bastard or the whore," Petar taunted, his words cutting through me like razors. "And if you don't let go, I'm going to use both."

Every instinct screamed at me to rip his arm off, to make him pay for threatening the people I cared about. But the rational part of my brain, small as it was, knew I couldn't risk it. Not yet. With a herculean effort, I abruptly released his arm, shoving him away from me.

"Fine," I spat, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. I plastered on a smirk that felt more like a snarl. "I'll play burglar to my resume tonight. Right after long-suffering chauffeur and unwilling pawn in daddy's schemes."

"But you still need to choose," Petar said, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.

I shoved him, my hands itching to do much worse. "I said I'd steal it tonight," I growled, my patience wearing thinner than a vampire's tan.

Petar's lips curled into a smile that would make the devil proud. "Choose," he repeated, savoring that single syllable like a fine wine.

I ran my hand through my hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. The bastard was enjoying this. A hiss escaped my lips, my fangs dropping down involuntarily. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as they nicked my lower lip.

"I'm waiting," Petar sing-songed, tapping his foot like an impatient schoolmarm.

Guilt churned in my stomach like a nest of vipers, but I knew there was only one choice. The word felt like broken glass in my throat as I spat it out. "Valentin."

The guilt threatened to claw its way up my throat. But Gianna...I couldn't risk her. Not her.

"The bastard it is," Petar smirked, looking like the cat who got the canary and the cream.

As he skulked away, I leaned back against the car, the cool metal a stark contrast to my burning skin. My mind raced faster than a vampire on a blood binge. I had a wedding to prepare for, a heist to plan, and a family to protect.

"Jaxon better be right," I muttered to myself, my fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the car door. "That damn ring better melt those stupid puppets, or I've just sentenced my brother to a fate worse than death." I paused, a humorless chuckle escaping my lips. "And in our world, that's saying something."

Angelo and Enzo came out of Crimson Stakes, the family casino.

I straightened up, adjusting my jacket with a flourish. Time to put on the chauffeur mask again. After all, the show must go on, even when you're the unwilling star in a cosmic joke of a play.

My stomach didn't just tense; it did a full gymnastic routine. "Is Angelo sending an army to guard you?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light. Inside, I was already planning escape routes and calculating how fast I could get to her if things went south.

"Just Jacques. He's one of Enzo's best enforcers. We'll be fine. The dress shop is one of Angelo's fronts. The wolves wouldn't dare hit that."

I wasn't so sure. Wolves were getting bolder by the day, and 'wouldn't dare' wasn't exactly ironclad protection. But arguing would only worry her, and God knows we had enough to worry about.

I clutched her hand, maybe a little tighter than necessary. "What kind of dress are you getting? Something with easy access for midnight snacks?" I waggled my eyebrows, but my mind was racing. One enforcer? For the vampire mafia princess? Either Angelo was getting cocky, or... No. I couldn't go down that rabbit hole. Not now.

"Promise me you'll be careful," I said, surprising myself with the seriousness in my voice. "And if anything feels off – anything at all – you get out of there. Dress be damned."

Gianna's smile softened. "I promise. Now, stop worrying and help me decide on veils."

Right. Veils. Because that's what I should be focusing on. Not potential assassins, or magical puppets, or the fact that this wedding could be our death sentence. Just your average everyday wedding planning. With a side of mortal peril.

"Maybe yours truly should be at your side."

She leaned over and kissed me, effectively shutting me up. "You can't come. Bad luck for you to see me in the dress. I don't even want you to drive me. Jacques is. You can stay here and relax. "

I crossed my arms and cocked an eyebrow. "With Angelo? That would be as relaxing as sitting next to a rattlesnake with anger management issues."

"Well," she said, rolling her eyes, "he wants you to drive him and Enzo to the church. Only the guards will be here."

Perfect. Sometimes the universe does throw you a bone.

I was headed over to the garage to get the limo when Petar stopped me. "This is your opportunity to get the mirror. Almost everyone will be gone."

I smirked. "Except for you—the ever loyal soldier."

"Shut up. I know where the mirror is." Petar couldn't hide the excitement in his voice, his eyes glinting with malicious glee.

I narrowed my eyes, my jaw clenching with suspicion. "How did you find out?" I drawled, my voice dripping with skepticism.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind. He keeps it in a secret safe behind a painting in his bedroom. It's where all his magical objects are kept."

I paced back and forth, my fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against my thigh. "You want me to enter the vampire mafia king's sacred bedroom?" I scoffed, my eyebrows shooting up. "You must have fallen on your head. Multiple times. From a very tall building."

"Shut up," Petar hissed, his face contorting with anger. "Or your brother pays the consequences."

I felt my fangs itching to descend, but I forced a smirk. "He's going to know someone from the inside stole it. And the newest person is little old me. Spoiler alert: I like my head attached to my body."

"No, he won't," Petar sneered. "He's going to think a witch got it. I'm leaving some breadcrumbs." He clasped my shoulder, his fingers digging in painfully. "Don't disappoint me. You know what will happen if you do."

I shrugged off his hand, my skin crawling where he'd touched me. He was about as trustworthy as Blackbeard the Pirate. God, I was going to end up walking the plank. If I even got that lucky...

"Just get back here and steal the damn thing," Petar growled.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes, a humorless chuckle escaping my lips. Saying this fucking sucked was the understatement of the century. I wanted to tell Angelo about Petar's plan, but why would he believe me? And Petar could still have a change to use the Malefic Puppets. So dear old dad had me right where he wanted me—caught between a rock and a homicidal hard place.

"Fine," I spat, my voice laced with venom. "I'll add suicidal cat burglar to my ever-growing list of terrible life choices. Anything else? Want me to juggle stakes while I'm at it?"

Petar ignored my sarcasm, his eyes darting around nervously. "The guards patrol the house every fifteen minutes, but I'll make sure I'm on watch when you get back. His door will be open." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The spell to open the safe is Aperio Arcanum. Repeat it three times while touching the painting of a castle."

I raised an eyebrow, unable to resist a quip. " Aperio Arcanum ? Sounds like a rejected Harry Potter spell. Let me guess, if I say it wrong, I'll turn into a toad?"

"This isn't a joke, Dimitri," Petar hissed. "Get it right, or we're both dead."

I rolled my eyes but committed the spell to memory. " Aperio Arcanum . Got it. Any other magical words of wisdom before I go off to my potential doom?"

"Just get it then meet me in the garage."

"Why the garage? You'd better not be setting me up."

"Not at all, lover boy," Petar sneered, patting my cheek with mock affection. I fought the urge to bite his hand off as he strolled away, looking far too pleased with himself.

I pulled the limo out of the garage, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Fear and anxiety churned in my gut like a particularly nasty cocktail, and I did my best to shove it down to the soles of my shoes. Angelo and Enzo were like bloodhounds with PhDs in paranoia, They'd sniff out my unease faster than you could say busted.

"Come on, Dimitri," I muttered to myself, plastering on my best everything's peachy smirk. Just channel your inner Thomas Crown, I told myself. Suave, sophisticated, and about to pull off the heist of the century. Except instead of priceless art, I'm stealing a magical mirror and a ring. And instead of Pierce Brosnan's charm, I've got vampire speed and a tendency to piss off everyone I meet. Close enough, right?

As Angelo and Enzo climbed into the back of the limo, I couldn't help but smirk. "Off to see the wizard, are we? Or just a run-of-the-mill priest?"

As soon as they disappeared into the church, I was on the move. Time to add master thief to my ever-growing resume of questionable life choices.

I gunned the engine, the limo's tires squealing as I peeled away from the church. Every second counted now.

"Sorry, Gianna," I muttered as I raced back toward the mansion. "Looks like I'm going to have to rain on our wedding parade. Let's just hope this mirror's worth it."

With one last glance at the receding church in the rearview mirror, I steeled myself for what was to come. Breaking and entering, stealing from my future brother-in-law, potentially ruining my own wedding.... Just another day in the life of Dimitri Dragan, vampire extraordinaire and reluctant antihero.

Now, to pull off the heist of the century without losing my head—literally or figuratively. Easy as pie, right?